


Fated

by IronBitch35730 (Ayita35730)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Death, Maybe - Freeform, Mental Instability, OR IS IT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:07:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27411706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ayita35730/pseuds/IronBitch35730
Summary: After the agni ki, Azula muses on destiny.This is eitherFollowing Zuko's death at Azula's hands when Katara couldn't heal him.orFollowing Zuko's recovery after Katara saved his life.Interpret it how you wish.
Relationships: Azula & Mai (Avatar), Azula & Ty Lee (Avatar), Azula & Zuko (Avatar)
Kudos: 12





	Fated

Azula’s brilliant.

Gifted.

A prodigy. 

She watches a mothfly buzz around the edge of her bed, landing idly on the edge of her headboard. Her muscles tense and she wills it away, not wanting her current bout of oblivion to end simply because of the whims of such an insignificant creature. 

Rare that things bring her out of it anymore. 

She comes out of it when Zuko visits, though she never shows him that. 

She doesn’t like the paths her mind ventures when it’s aware. These days, her thoughts don’t follow her commands anymore. They take dangerous turns and leaps that do nothing but cause her anger and despair. 

And that doesn’t fuel her like it fueled Zuko. If anything, she feels drained by it. Like each little episode of pure madness leaves her more and more like a husk. She never felt much of anything her entire life, the emotions she had, shallow and echoic of what she saw in others. They existed though, despite what her family thought. There were... moments of fondness.

“ _ Careful, Dum Dum.” _

Most people think perfection can’t exist. It can—it’s one of the great delusions of the human psyche. People crave perfection. They want to see it, touch it, achieve it. They want to believe in perfect things, so they create it. 

Azula was such a thing. To her father, to her people, she was the perfect princess. She was flawless in the eyes of the fire nation—only her family saw her differently. Mother, Zuko, Uncle, Lu Tien, they never understood her. They looked at her like she was a mistake, an error. She knew they were wrong. So she turned to making them fear her and found it satisfying.

A part of her always wondered though, if it could have been better another way.

But she ignored it, because she’s brilliant, she’s strong, she’s cunning and she’s not so easily affected. She lacks the emotional weakness they all possess. Her father was the only one of that sorry lot to realize that her coldness, her viciousness—they were assets. They made her strong and they made her  _ better _ . 

That’s what she used to believe. What she still wants to believe, but things don’t make a lot of sense anymore. People come and talk to her that shouldn't be here. Her father’s here every day, her mother hardly ever leaves her be for more than a few hours. She only sees Zuko once a week (and a handful of random instances where she simply stares at his corpse for a few hours) but those visits are different from the others. 

They might even be real. 

There’s something her father used to say to get under Zuko’s skin. 

_ “Your sister was born lucky—you were lucky to be born.” _

Was always thought she was born the lucky one. The talented one, the intelligent one, the ambitious one. She was both her father and fortune’s favorite. Compared to her Zuko looked even more pathetic.. Azula loved that, she loved having Zuko around to showcase how unique and amazing she truly was. 

Except.

Except she couldn’t understand why her family didn’t love her like they did Zuko. All but her father doting on him, protecting him. They treated her like she was  _ defective _ . 

Which is ridiculous  _ but what if it isn’t _ . 

Azula used to believe in fate. She never struggled with her destiny at all, not like her indecisive idiot of a brother—she was to be a firelord, like her father. She was going to help her father conquer the rest of the world and she would succeed him because  _ it was always going to be her. _

“ _ I love Zuko, more than I fear you.” _ Mai whispers in her ear and she shivers, shaking off the coolness that runs across her skin. It’s always been so cold since that day.

_ Blue. _

_ Red. _

_ Lightning across the sky.  _

She beat Zuko, like she was always supposed to.

But then things went wrong. 

She’s not perfect anymore. She doesn’t trust anything, not even her own perception. Nothing is real, nothing is clear and empty and easy anymore. Her emotions feel amplified beyond comprehension, she can’t control her own body. The days are all the same. There are voices in her head that whisper wicked little things—

“ _ You killed him, you killed your own brother, what kind of monster are you?” _

“ _ You couldn’t even kill your brother, bested by a little watertribe savage, have you always been so pathetic?” _

“ _ Zuzu died, he’s gone. You really did it this time, is this what you wanted? He looked so small lying there on the ground—” _

“ _ He’s alive, thank Agni he’s alive he’s there—” _

“ _ He’s finally gone, I’m finally the only one, the best one, finally, finally,—” _

She saw Zuko that last day. Gone was the lost little boy she so enjoyed tormenting. This was someone new, someone who finally had achieved a stability in himself that allowed him to unlock his potential.

She remembers thinking that he looked like he was going to conjure lightning, that he was finally going to do it. He had the will and patience for it, something she thought him incapable of. He stepped into his strength and away from his fear and he faced her as an equal ( _ it shouldn't be possible, he can’t compare to her, he can’t).  _

And she can’t reconcile what she knows and what she doesn’t anymore and she almost thinks she was wrong, before. She can’t be the lucky one. 

Because if there is such a thing as fate, that was always his.

And this was always hers. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
